


Not in New York Anymore

by worthmorethanrubies25



Category: Dororo (Anime 1969), Dororo (Anime 2019), Dororo (Manga), どろろと百鬼丸伝 | Dororo to Hyakkimaru-den (Manga)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Currently being rewritten - Freeform, Don’t read if you don’t like the pairing, Dororo and Hyakkimaru are both teenagers in this, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29473665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worthmorethanrubies25/pseuds/worthmorethanrubies25
Summary: For the most part, Dororo Tezuka is a typical rebellious Japanese-American teenager. Well, aside from being an orphan banished to Brat Camp for the summer.Then things take an interesting turn when she finds herself  transported to a black-and-white Sengoku era Japan with a strange, handsome young ronin who’s missing several of his body parts.“I have a feeling I’m not in New York anymore.”
Relationships: Dororo & Hyakkimaru (Dororo), Dororo/Hyakkimaru (Dororo)
Kudos: 1





	Not in New York Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> In all honesty, I don’t know where the idea for this story came from. It’s been in my head for days and I just want to write it.
> 
> This will mostly be based off the 1969 Dororo anime, since there is literally zero fanfics for that version on this website (at least none that I’ve seen), but there will be stuff from other Dororo media, too.
> 
> In this story, Dororo grew up in Brooklyn, NYC, so I’m going to have her throw out some pop culture references and New York slang (I’m actually not from New York, so if I mess it up, I apologize. I’m trying my best).
> 
> Oh, and Dororo and Hyakkimaru are in their late teens. I thought that was important to note in case any feathers get ruffled about this ship.
> 
> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own “Dororo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I combined the first two chapters into one and did some major rewriting on it because I wasn’t really pleased with how it turned out the first time. Hopefully this is better.

**Japan, Sengoku Era**

Even though Daigo Kagemitsu had bribed the midwife into holding her tongue, his wife, Nui No Kata, was certain that he was going to have her killed. Perhaps her corpse would join the others that she and her husband were currently stepping around to reach the river at their furthest border. After all, it would ruin his reputation - and his rise to power - if too many people knew that he had sold his firstborn son’s body parts to forty-eight Yokai.

He hadn’t even trusted anyone except himself and his wife to dispose of the child while disguised as peasants.

Nui, still exhausted and not fully recovered from the difficult labor, stumbled along while carrying her son in one arm and a wooden basin in the other. The baby boy was wrapped in her favorite kimono: pale blue silk printed with pink cherry blossoms. It had been a gift from her beloved mother, right before her death just months ago. She wanted her son to have a small part of her, even if Daigo insisted that he would not live long.

She swallowed, the bruise on her throat constricting painfully. She had been horrified when she learned her husband had traded their son’s body in exchange for power over Japan; when he ordered her to give up the child, she refused and said that _he_ was the soulless monster, not their son. The hand-shaped bruise wrapping around her small neck was her punishment for “forgetting her place.”

She had been a fool, believing she could learn to love this man, when she had known since the day she met him that he was evil.

“This is far enough,” Daigo said.

Nui felt her heart breaking as she knelt at the edge of the river. The baby squirmed in the crook of her arm, as if sensing his mother’s sadness. Placing the basin next to her, she cradled him close to her.

“Please forgive me, my child,” she whispered to the bundle. “Never forget that I love you. Oh, how I love you so, _so_ much.”

She continued to soothingly rock the newborn and place gentle kisses on his skinless forehead.

“Well?” her husband asked impatiently.

Nui winced at his tone. With a heavy sigh, she covered the boy’s deformed face with the silk and placed him into the basin, giving it a light push into the river’s current.

_Please_ , she prayed, _let him live and grow strong! Don’t let him be alone in the world!_

Wait...what was she _doing_?! That was her _son_! She couldn’t leave him!

“ _My son!_ ” she cried out, lurching toward the basin to rescue her child.

“No! Stay back!”

Daigo was too quick for her, and his arms were around her waist, preventing her from going any further. The basin continued to drift down the river.

“ _MY SON!!!_ ” Nui screamed as the last of her strength drained from her. She sagged in her husband’s arms, sobbing.

“We will have more sons, woman. You will forget him,” Daigo growled, releasing her so she slumped to the ground.

Nui could only watch through her tears until the basin disappeared from sight; she was so distraught, she barely registered Daigo grumbling under his breath.

“Who could ever love a misshapen monster such as that?”

**New York City, Present Day**

Sometimes, Dororo Tezuka _really_ hated her life.

Like right now, when the seventeen-year-old Brooklyn girl was waiting to board a bus that was going to take her to summer camp. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy camping - she had gone on lots of camping trips with her parents when she was little - but she Googled the so-called camp her caseworker had told her about last night. Judging from the prices and description on the website, it was a Brat Camp for rich kids. And yet the State of New York claimed they couldn’t afford to send her to boarding school in Paris, even with a full scholarship.

On the plus side, she would go the entire summer without hanging around the shabby orphanage in Queens with her domineering caseworker. Or being stuck with yet another foster family that didn’t really want her; this last one had been her eighth in the past year. After getting into a fistfight with their daughters, they immediately called the orphanage to get “the little hellion” out of their apartment. Her caseworker sure had enjoyed giving Dororo a hard time about it.

_“Do you have any idea how difficult it was to convince them not to press charges against the orphanage? Unfortunately, we don’t have any new families available to take care of you. Instead of spending the summer here and being a thorn in everyone’s side, I’ve arranged for you to go to a camp near Lake George.”_

Dororo blew her choppy bangs out of her face. This was going to be the longest summer of her life.

When the bus finally started to board, Dororo immediately claimed the frontmost seat, putting her feet up on the seat next to her and giving off her best _leave-me-alone_ vibe.

Watching all the wealthy delinquents file on, Dororo was aware that she didn’t fit in. While everyone else looked like they had just stepped out of a fashion magazine, she was dressed in worn tennis shoes, distressed denim shorts, a dark brown tank top, an unzipped green hoodie vest, a leather choker, fingerless gloves, and her black-and-purple ombré hair was tied up in a messy ponytail.

For the most part, the other teenagers seemed to get the message that Dororo didn’t want anyone sitting next to her. Then again, they probably didn’t want to sit next to the only girl that wasn’t done up in fresh-off-the-runway garb. A group of rowdy boys got on, whistling and catcalling every girl on the bus. A few of them even stopped to check her out before she gave them a death glare. Dororo usually liked cute guys, but boys that treated girls like sexual objects were always a big turn-off for her.

As the bus began to move, she dug her iPhone and earbuds out of her hoodie pocket and put her music on shuffle. Big mistake: the first song that started playing was “Sempre libera” from the opera _La Traviata_.

Dororo frantically switched to another song, breathing a sigh of relief when Imagine Dragons came on. When was she going to delete all that opera music from her phone, anyway? All it did was bring back painful, heart wrenching memories that triggered her panic attacks.

She shook her head and turned the song up to a level that threatened to shatter her eardrums to drown out those thoughts.

“ _Nobody can save me now_

_King is crowned_

_It’s do or die_

_Nobody can save me now_

_The only sound is a battle cry_...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of making Dororo’s hair entirely purple like it is in the new manga, I made it her natural black at the top that fades into purple ends. I think that would be a cool look for her.


End file.
